


The red in the woods

by CureIcy



Series: All is Within Their Gaze [3]
Category: Original Work, The Eye and its Children: What Lurks in the Dark
Genre: Cryptids, Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:12:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CureIcy/pseuds/CureIcy
Summary: Red feels like coming home.
Series: All is Within Their Gaze [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732258
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2
Collections: Tales of the Eyes





	The red in the woods

"Welcome back," the waitress says to you. Her name is Clarisse, and she hopes to pay for college through her work here. Even now, she is shifting on her feet.

"Always a pleasure." You incline your head to her, an informal bow. "Just a small bowl of the soup, if you don't mind. I'm only passing through today."

"Oh?" She jots this down. "What's the occasion? I haven't seen you since finals season."

"I'm visiting family," you inform her.

"Must be nice, living away from them. My parents can be..." she makes a hand gesture that apparently means her parents are so conservative she's scared to leave the closet, and so set in their ways she has to hide her interests. You are unsure how much she meant to convey.

"I understand. Please send the chef my regards." You gaze longingly out the window, and the trees wave their leaves invitingly.

_Soon._

* * *

The voices grow louder as you eat. It's paltry sustenance, hardly needed, really, but there will be consequences if you do not consume something before you return.

The other customers turn their heads to you, as they always do. Their gazes fall away empty, anywhere but yours, and you take another sip of your broth.

It has been too long.

You leave a single coin for Clarisse, as is your custom-- the coin is so large it will not fit in her pocket, and so dense that she nearly hurt her hand during your first visit. There is a hexagon shaped hole in the middle.

You do hope she'll get accepted to her dream college. Clarisse is a kind girl, and her hospitality merits such things as ancient gold.

* * *

You take your leave unhindered by the people of this town. Like your fellow patrons, they avert their eyes, or else sneak glances in between rapid heartbeats. There are those few humans like Clarisse, of course, but even those may not be nearly as kind as she.

Clarisse deserves better than this fearful, ignorant town. Were she not so fragile of heart, you would invite her to join you, but such things are not meant for human eyes.

Your current arrangement is for the best.

The shadows reach out from their posts and curl around your ankles like clingy housecats, and friendly tendrils of mist brush against the edges of your vision. You have missed the heady scent of moss, the thick and sweet decay, the soft green growth. The light filtering through the trees grows scarcer and scarcer, the mist stronger, and you know you are getting close.

You know you are growing closer when the silence is near tangible, when the songbirds fear to approach, when the fog is all consuming.

The human form you have carefully constructed rebels against this, as is its nature. You shed it carefully, entrusting it to an ancient oak. This is your custom.

You are almost there. Only a little further.

Your eyes are met with red, unblinking, unfeeling, and you know you are home.

“Welcome back.”


End file.
